Hard To Say
by reikoyazumi
Summary: A mission is recieved, one that Duo is not too happy about. And Wufei? Well, let's just say that shouting may have occurred.
1. Intro

**A/N: For my wonderful friend, WufeiDuoForever, who kicks my ass into gear, and makes me write these stories!  
Pairings: Eventual 2x5. Other pairings may be included. Please read & review, and give me some incentive to continue writing, if you like it!**

Quatre was the first to receive the mission. He was sat on the squashy sofa in the living room, a book in his hands, when the laptop bleeped, signifying incoming mail. Trowa was in the kitchen when he heard the blonde pilot's explosion of laughter, and put down the cup he was holding, walking quickly to see what had amused the other boy so much.

When Trowa entered the room, Quatre looked around, grinning. He turned the laptop towards the dark-haired pilot behind him, who leant on the back of the sofa as he read, the blonde watching his expression eagerly. Trowa's green eyes scanned the first few paragraphs quickly, taking in the rough mission briefing they contained. Suddenly, his eyes widened, flicking back to re-read the previous sentence. He looked at Quatre for a moment, eyebrows raised. His bottom lip quivered slightly, and he bit it, suppressing the laughter threatening to escape from his mouth. This expression tipped Quatre back over the edge, and he started laughing again, the normally stoic pilot following suit.

A door opened, just off the main room, and the oriental features of Chang Wufei looked out, frowning. Trowa's laughter had disturbed him from his meditation, and, of course, he had to come and see what had made the silent boy laugh so much. He caught Quatre's eye with a questioning glance, and the laptop was once again rotated, this time to face Wufei. He read it quickly, doing a double take as he reached the paragraph in question. He grinned broadly, swinging on his heel, headed towards the warehouse next to the safehouse where they were staying. This warehouse was where the Gundams were stored, and where Heero Yuy was currently tinkering with Wing.

When Wufei managed to drag Heero away from Gundam 01, he led the way back to the house and Quatre's laptop.

Trowa was the first to hear the movements from upstairs that heralded Duo's awakening, and picked the laptop up, a devious smirk on his delicate features. He left the room, returning a moment later, empty-handed. "Kitchen," he said simply, in reply to the three questioning glances he received. The four pilots were all in the living room now, awaiting Duo's appearance. Quatre had curled up on the couch, his book back in his hands. Trowa sat next to him, his long legs stretching out to rest on the coffee table, picking up the Gundanium bolt he had been cleaning. Wufei was meditating again, and Heero was scribbling something in a notepad, sat on the big winged armchair that was positioned perpendicularly to the sofa. The four pilots remained still, each seemingly enthralled in their respective exercises, as a number of thumps split the still air in the house.

The thumping descended the stairs, occasionally punctured by a venomous mutter. Duo was…not at his best, the morning after a mission. He had arrived home from his latest undercover mission late the previous night – well, early in the morning would be more accurate. He was generally not even coherent until he had at least had a cup of coffee. Quatre shot a worried glance at Trowa, who smiled back. "I made him a cup," he whispered.

There was silence for a couple of minutes. Quatre imagined Duo wandering around the kitchen, mug in hand, working up the energy to look at the laptop. Any moment now, he would be putting down his cup and… "WHAT THE FUCK?!?!?"

The four pilots burst out laughing at the same moment, even Heero, although he was a little more restrained than the others.

The braided pilot of Gundam Deathscythe burst into the room, the laptop in his hand. He paused in the doorway, glaring at the amused boys. However, the intensity of his glare was somewhat weakened by the fact that he was still dressed in his soft, loose pyjama bottoms, devoid of a top and with his braid in a slept-upon disarray. The other boys couldn't stop laughing, even when Duo started to swear at them. In fact, this simply added to the comic image. "Now, now, Duo! Ladies don't talk like that!" Wufei had interrupted a vehement flow of curses, his comment leaving the other boy speechless for a moment. "You…you…argh!" Duo spluttered, lost for words for once. He cast one last glare at Wufei and stalked off, slamming doors all the way upstairs.


	2. Mission Specs

**A/N: I've just come back to this fic after forgetting totally about it. My writing style has changed a little since I started this, and I think it shows. I had about half of this chapter done before, and finished it when I rediscovered it! I haven't decided what perspective the rest of the fic is going to be in, so let me know what you think. **

"I am going to kill someone today. Hopefully Wufei." I stood in my room, nursing the cup of coffee I'd rescued from the kitchen at some point during my escape. The black liquid was almost gone, and I was still not quite myself. Of course, having a bombshell dropped on you first thing in the morning was not something that set you up well for the day. I sighed, one hand reaching up to finger the cross that hung around my neck, a symbol of my past, and my present. What would Sister Helen think if she could see me now? Probably the same as everyone else in this shack, bastards that they are.

A tentative knock on the door woke me from my reverie. "Duo?" Quatre's soft voice came through the wooden door, accompanied by the smell of fresh coffee. I would do anything for another cup of java at this particular moment, so I opened the door, rather reluctantly, letting the blonde boy enter.

Quatre wordlessly handed over the coffee. Wonderful kid, is Quat. I looked at him expectantly. He'd probably come to talk about the fucking mission.

"We're sorry, Duo." I raised an eyebrow at him, and he had the grace to look even more ashamed and repentant. "We really are! It just… took us by surprise. We thought you'd see the funny side, eventually…" He trailed off, flashing me those big baby blues of his.

I must admit, had I been in his situation, and one of the others had received that mission, I would be laughing my ass off, too. But then, the idea of Heero, Trowa or Wufei in a dress is goddamn hilarious! Hee-bunny would stand there, arms crossed, jaw clenched, and death staring anyone who looked at him funny, much like he did normally, in fact. But then insert that image of him into a little frock, and it's impossible to keep a straight face. 'Course, if you try to imagine Wufei in a dress, its not possible to stop laughing for about three days. Honestly, he'd go off on one of his 'injustice' rants, pacing and glaring. To be honest, when I imagine it, I pop him into a little black number, with his hair loose and red lipstick on…

This particular mental image made me snort into my coffee, and Kitty-Quat looked up, hopefully. Our eyes met, and I burst out laughing.

"Duo?" he asked, a bemused smile on his face. Probably thought I'd gone off my rocker completely.

Between gasps and bursts of laughter, I described my little mental depiction of 'Fei-'Fei. He found it just as amusing as I did.

"You okay about this mission, Duo?" he asked, once we'd calmed down. I sighed.

"Yeah, Q. Just be glad it's me and not one of the other guys!" He snickered. "So, when is my uniform arriving for this school, then?"

"Oh, I'm not sure. It didn't say on the email, but since you start in a week, I'd imagine it would be here soon."

It arrived two days later. The mission hadn't been mentioned again, although Wufei kept smirking at me. It was okay though, since I got to thrash him at sparring. He sulked all day after that.

Anyway, it was Tro-baby who brought the package into the living room, where the rest of us were arranged. 'Fei and Hee-chan were going over some specs for their Gundams, Q-ball was working on some mission plan or other, and I was curled up in my chair, reading an old, pre-colony book, called A Clockwork Orange. Damn, but it was hard work! Good though.

Trowa dropped the parcel onto the little coffee table, and sat down next to Quat on the sofa. He looked at me. I looked back. Suddenly, everyone was paying attention, and I could see Wufei's eye twitching. For some reason, I had the sudden urge to spar with him again. Cocky bastard.

I licked my lips and stood, regarding the parcel with something like trepidation. It's just a box! I pulled my flick knife out of my belt and stabbed the tape holding it shut, with perhaps a touch more violence than was necessary.

It was not as bad as I had been expecting. I pulled the blazer out of the box, holding it up so the others could see. It was black, with the school's logo embroidered on the breast pocket. Oh God, breasts. Sure enough, beneath the fitted white shirt was a bra. With some sort of…gel stuff inside. I held up the thing, and my face must have been hilarious, because Quat started to laugh. I could see Wufei out of the corner of my eye, still desperately trying to keep a straight face, and Heero was bent suspiciously low over his keyboard. Trowa looked me straight in the eyes and said, "You'd think you've never seen a bra before, Maxwell." Totally deadpan. I have a new respect for the guy, seriously. Of course, this was the final straw for Wuffers and Heero, and Quat looked like he was having an aneurysm of some sort, he was laughing so hard.

"And you have, Circus Boy? Last I looked, Q-Ball didn't wear 'em." Ah revenge. It tastes so sweet.

Wuffers seemed to be choking on his tongue, and Heero smacked his head on the table, still chuckling. Tro was still straight-faced, although the corner of his mouth quirked up. His little blonde lover was somehow managing to look scandalised, embarrassed and amused all at the same time, and was bright red with the effort.

I pulled out the next item in the box, a black pleated skirt. My amusement turned to horror as I noticed how _short_ the thing was! I held it to my waist to measure it's length, which made Trowa chuckle. It came about halfway up my thigh.

Beneath this was another blazer. I pulled it out, a little confused. It was cut slightly different to the other, with broader shoulders and a narrower waist. I frowned, setting it aside and picking out the next items in the box. Another shirt and skirt, again different to the first set. Q's laptop bleeped, and he flipped it up without thinking about it.

His eyes went wide as he scanned the screen, once, twice, and a third time, his nostrils flaring. Trowa looked over his shoulder and read the new email, before catching my eye. "What's that about? New mission?" I asked. Tro shook his head, and began to read. Beside him, Q was turning red again.

"_We have received new information vital to 02's mission. The daughter of the school's owner is starting when 02 does, and may be privy to some of the data we are looking for. Of course, befriending her and discovering what she knows will be a vital part of this mission, as well as investigating the school itself._

"_The danger level of this mission has significantly increased, as the security surrounding the school had been doubled, because of the presence of such a high-profile young woman. As the previous mission data stated, this girl's father is involved in the upper echelons of the Romefeller Foundation, and the school is suspected to be a cover for his activities. In addition to this, we have received reports of the presence of Mobile Dolls in the area, which suggests that the school is being used as either a production plant or testing area._

"_Therefore, 05 will be sent to accompany 02, as this mission has become vital. We will need the presence of two pilots."_

The smile had disappeared from Wufei's face, and he looked incredibly pale. I felt a grin growing on my face. Wuffers in a dress! I avoided Q-ball's eye, knowing he was thinking much the same as me. Trowa caught my eye briefly, before continuing to read.

"_Please inform 02 and 05 that the waxing strips at the bottom of the parcel are to be used on all visible body hair. Including chests."_

Wu looked at me. I looked back, utterly horrified. Waxing! He mirrored the expression on my face, and there was silence in the room.

"Waxing!" spluttered Heero, causing the other two to start laughing. Bastards. I hate Heero. I looked at Wu. I think he'd gone into shock, because he was incredibly pale, and his eyes didn't seem to be focusing properly. Heero was practically peeing himself in his corner. Fucking bastard.

I held out Wufei's skirt, an action that Heero, Trowa and Quat all seemed to find hilarious. Poor Wu just kind of looked at it, like it was some sort of alien device. I must admit, his face was hilarious. I bit down a chuckle as he stretched out a tentative hand to take the garment offered to him.

"Who's laughing now, Fei-_chan_?" I grinned. Heero shot me a sharp look, and I realised that I'd just demonstrated that I knew exactly what I was saying when I called him 'Hee-chan.' Oh well, he didn't seem too bothered, and was still laughing his ass off at 'Fei's now murderous expression.

I turned and legged it, making out of the room just as he lunged toward me. His shout of "MAXWELL!!" followed me all the way upstairs to my room, where I could lock the door against him until he calmed down.

Ha, Wufei in a dress…..


	3. Preparations

**A/N: My thanks to everyone who has taken the time to review. I loves you all! Unfortuantely this story is officially on hiatus, which only really means that updates with be spasmidic and irregular, and I take no responsibility for this! I blame real life. Who needs it, anyway?  
I'm currently doing beta work for In2lalaland, so for any of you who haven't, go check out her stories.  
Dedicated to Jack, because I can and I owe him. Enjoy, and, of course, review for me. **

I had spent the entire night asking Nataku what injustice I had committed in a previous life that meant I deserved this. Then, this morning, Winner had the audacity to enter my living area and ask whether I needed help with the waxing! I am sure that I could hear Barton chuckling away inanely with Winner as they left. I do not appreciate being a source of amusement to them.

Still, it was a mission, and one I had no choice in. I sent up another prayer to whatever gods happened to be listening – none, apparently – and set to work 'prettifying' myself, to use Maxwell's ridiculous phrase.

I have lost what little respect I had for onnas after seeing what they put themselves through. Waxing is an utterly unnecessary and unholy ritual. I can imagine the doctors laughing themselves to the point of asphyxiation. In fact, I am hoping for it.

Nevertheless, it was done. Winner had supplied some sort of soothing cream to apply to my legs after their ordeal, and a moisturising deodorant, which smelled excessively feminine. However, it was all that was available, and my only consolation was that Maxwell was enduring the same thing. Winner had left me a list of things to change about my appearance to make me appear more 'womanly'. Oh, how I long for the days when I could have indiscriminately destroyed him, while pleading ignorant of his role as Gundam pilot 04!

I put the underwear on first, obviously. The bra was disgustingly uncomfortable, and the 'knickers' were absolutely ridiculous. And restricting! I am not entirely sure yet how they affect my movement, but I am sure that they do not benefit it. Next came some long, impractical socks, which rose to the knee. I put the skirt on next, to determine how large an expanse of thigh was revealed between the two garments. Of course, the ludicrous lack of skirt length helped this not at all.

The shirt was slightly better, and not as uncomfortable as the rest of the outfit. Although I had to keep fighting the urge to yank the skirt down, as it felt preposterously revealing, and the socks would not stay up. I refused to put the suspender belt on. That was a step far too far. The tie and blazer were acceptable, and I even wore the necklace that Winner had, again, provided. It seemed frivolous, but apparently it contained a very small tracking device, so it was both practical and vital. It was, at least, fairly understated, and in silver and black. It was a simple drop pendant, a tear-shaped black stone – possibly onyx – set into silver, on a mid-length close-linked chain.

Winner had ordered me to wash my hair the previous night, and not to put any sort of product in it. I was extremely offended! I am no _girl_, fiddling and crimping and fussing with my hair! I only use a little gel, occasionally, to prevent any strands from falling into my eyes and obscuring my line of vision. I removed it from its tie, allowing it to fall loosely around my face. I cannot see how this would be beneficial in any way, as I can barely see. Still, Winner is in charge of making us look like women, so it is to Winner's will that I must bend, albeit temporarily.

Finally, I had to apply makeup. This is utter injustice! Winner will _pay_ for this; I swear it on the graves of every one of my kin that has ascended from this plane.

The eyeliner was easily mastered, although I could not fathom how to get an even line on the top eyelid, so I sufficed with a thin line around the bottom. It felt exceedingly strange, and I admit that I had to stand, blinking furiously, while my eyes got used to the intrusion. I refused to apply any sort of foundation or blusher, but the eyeshadow Winner had provided sported a large note that told me, in no uncertain terms, that I must apply it, or some noses would get broken. When I returned from the mission, of course. And after a certain person had tied me to a chair, to be restrained by his lover, while he caked layers of brightly coloured goop on to my face.

So, I put it on. Sparingly. I am eternally thankful that it was a muted sort of dove grey, rather than some lurid, fluorescent, sparkly concoction that I am sure Winner has in his possession somewhere. Perhaps he inflicted that on Maxwell. I live in hope.

I was ready, or at least as ready as I would ever be. I blew my hair out of my eyes – completely undignified, but unfortunately my hands were full of equipment – and left my room. The stairs lead directly into the hall, so I deposited my armful and made my way towards the living room. It was utterly ridiculous how nervous I felt. Discomfort of this sort was… unfamiliar, and not pleasant. Nonetheless, I had to show the others, as they had the final mission details, and Yuy had concocted some explosive little devices for us to experiment with.

The door of the living room was slightly ajar, and I paused just outside, readying myself. I heard the low murmur of voices from within, which I managed to identify as Winner, Barton and Yuy. It was most probably the lack of volume, laughter and general skittishness that let me know that Maxwell was still absent. If I entered before Maxwell, the majority of the attention would be on me, so when he finally arrived I would have already been the butt of too many jokes. No, I would wait until Maxwell appeared, most probably at the front of a parade, knowing him, and then I would slip in.

So focused was I on this faintly disturbing image that I almost missed the sudden silence from the lining room. I looked around the door, interested in what had ceased my fellow pilots' chatter, and found myself rather lost for words.

Maxwell.

He was stood in the doorway on the other side of the room, the one that lead to the other staircase and the garage. He had let his hair out of that ridiculous plait, and it fell in…well, _cascades _down his back. The chestnut strands came further even than his skirt, which, I noticed through a rather stunned haze, was longer than mine. His eyes were, for want of a better word, sparkling. It seemed that he had been spared the ordeal of eyeliner, although his eyelashes were thick and dark and obviously laden with mascara, which gave him an odd sort of allure. His lips were darkened, the colour reminiscent of the deep, rich colour of welling blood, and his eyelids were dusted with gold and brown, which set off golden highlights in his chestnut hair, while the metallic effect made his indigo eyes almost glow. It was very disconcerting. He looked…well, he looked like a girl. A very attractive girl.

I refuse to believe that that thought ever crossed my mind. This was _Maxwell. _A comrade, a friend – on occasion – and a _male_. I refuse to wonder why the fact that he is male was the last reason that occurred to me.

The other three pilots were staring at him. As they were facing away from me I couldn't make out their expressions, but Maxwell was steadily going red and his hands were fidgeting with the hem of his longer-than-mine skirt.

Then Yuy whistled, long and low. This seemed to set the other two off, and soon comments and compliments were flying. Maxwell grinned. He still looked uncomfortable, as I was, in these utterly ludicrous school uniforms, but he stopped fidgeting and started laughing. Winner beckoned him into the centre of the room, calling for a twirl, and laughed as Maxwell complied with about as much grace as a tank trying to do ballet.

I couldn't hold back my snigger at this, and somehow Maxwell heard. His eyes flew towards where I was stood, and I realised that he could actually see me, as the door had inched open in my attempts to watch the proceedings.

Shit.


	4. Goodbye, Sweet Safehouse!

Okay, when I saw Wufei stood there, I admit I went totally brain-dead. Wuffers would probably try to be a funny guy and say that that's nothing new, but still.

He was fucking gorgeous.

I know, right? Duo Maxwell, having…_appreciative_ thoughts about Chang Wufei? It doesn't work!

I heard this little noise, a half-snicker, half-sigh that I've learned to associate with Wu; so I looked. He was standing behind the door, half hidden by the doorframe, but I could see all of his face. A little half-smile was playing across his lips, one of those smiles that appears so rarely but makes him look…well, human, at least. I don't think I've ever seen him with his hair down, so I'm blaming that for the fact that my mouth fell open, rather than the fact he looked softer somehow; and bloody delicious!

I couldn't take my eyes off him. The other guys barely noticed that I'd tuned out, until Kitty-Quat turned around to follow my gaze. There was another silence as Trowa, Heero and Quatre examined what was visible of Wufei. The blonde bombshell beckoned him in and, surprisingly, he complied, breaking the eye contact I hadn't realised we had been maintaining.

'Fei stalked into the room, making his way into the middle of the circle of chairs to stand near me. I licked my lips. I couldn't help it! I could _smell_ him; a heady mix of green tea and makeup and something that was indefinably Chang. I could almost taste the mothballs and sweet-pea sachets he kept in his closet, even though he wasn't wearing normal clothes.

Hee-chan caught my eye. I knew he'd noticed me going into a state of idiotic bliss at the proximity of Wuffers, and he gave me a tiny, wicked smile. Hee-bunny doesn't grin like the rest of us; his smiles are little twitches of the lips that you'll miss if you aren't careful, and that can convey a huge range of emotions if you know what to look for.

I've always loved 'Fei-'Fei's scent. There's something about smells that is just kinda…evocative to me; more so than my other senses. It helped that he was beautiful, of course.

I'm not saying I've got the hots for Chang, or anything. But no one could deny that he was absolutely shaggable. It was something about his eyes, I reckon. And with the makeup…wow. The deep grey served to accentuate the fathomless black depths, making his already intriguing eyes even harder to avoid. O' course, he was about as likeable – and easy to get to know – as a viper, once you'd talked to him. I had to teach that guy how to hold a conversation without reducing the other party to tears.

He was watching the three seated guys with an expression of defiance on his face. I'll bet he was deciding how to kill them if they laughed and he had taken a combat-ready stance; his muscles were loose but ready, feet apart and balanced and his hands were slightly raised. I couldn't resist.

"Hey Wu, ladies don't solve their problems with their fists," I chided, biting my lip to prevent a massive grin from swamping my face. His expression was priceless.

"Wow, Wufei. You look amazing," breathed Quat, saving me from a dose of Chang revenge by distracting dearest Waffles. Wufei frowned at Quat, not used to compliments as sincerely breathless as that one.

"I feel ridiculous," he groused, fiddling with the hem of his skirt, which was, I noticed, shorter than mine. I felt an odd sense of triumph at this. I snuck a glance at Heero, who was watching the two of us closely. I was sure I could see something in his eyes but he noticed me before I could figure out what it was.

The laptop beeped, signalling an end to the meat parade, and Wu and I took a seat. We both took about a million years to figure out how to sit in our skirts, but eventually it was sorted out and we were comfy. Well, as comfy as you can be while wearing a padded bra – which wasn't very comfy at all. Blondie was sitting by the laptop so it was he who finally opened the email...after spending some time laughing at my skirt-plight.

"Okay…we've got some schematics…blueprints for what is known of the school's layout and grounds, technical information about the newest OZ Mobile Dolls…the Doctors say to watch out in particular for patrols of Aries suits in the area…and a list of your soon-to be classmates. The daughter of the owner is on here, too; her name is Lucille de Fay. Heero's sorted out your records, and made sure that the two of you will be sharing a room." He shrugged, glancing up at us, "That's about it, but it says here that they'll keep updating you as they get the information."

I didn't miss that the Quatster could barely keep his eyes on the screen before him while he read. Those pretty blue eyes kept straying towards us – towards Wuffles. I figure Tro-baby probably noticed too, but he was little better than his little blonde lover, and Hee-banana (ooh, I like that one; bet he wouldn't, though) was staring unashamedly at us, switching his attention back and forth like he was watching a game of invisible midget ping-pong.

"Right-o dearies, if you've had your fill of the admittedly rather flattering staring, perhaps we could get those Gundams loaded?" I chalked up a mental point for me as a flicker of shame flashed across Hee-man's face. I had decided to keep a tally of all the times I got a reaction out of him that was unguarded, or at least as unguarded as Heero ever got. 'Course, thanks to me, that was a lot more than he had been trained for. Quat flushed bright red and Trowa simply smiled, and the three of them stood, following me out into the hallway where all of our pretty explosives and such were stacked.

I avoided eye contact with Wu-baby, seeing as how odd our little unintentional staring match had made me feel. I'm not one to back away from a fight, or go running with my tail between my legs from _anything_, but seeing as how I've gotta spend the next few months dressed up as a schoolgirl with the guy, I figured anything that might make either one of us uncomfortable should be avoided. Well, any more uncomfortable, at least!

The five of us managed to bundle the bags and boxes containing our stuff into the garage without too many girl jokes, and Wu and I set to work cramming stuff into the small storage spaces in our Gundams. Any excess had to go in the cockpit, so I made sure to stack the explosives and electricals in the storage first. I didn't relish the idea of one of Tro's incendiary devices going off in my face, but at least here the shock would be absorbed by 'Scythe's Gundanium plating.

Q-ball put his hand on my arm just as I was about to scramble my way into Scythe's control centre with a backpack. "Hey, Duo; I just wanted to say…well, you look really amazing, totally different. I almost didn't recognise you…" he trailed off, his sweet little face going red, probably from the look I was giving him. Hey, I couldn't help it! I knew the boy was totally head over heels for Circus boy, but that didn't mean a little teasing was out of order.

"Ah, Kitty-Quat. You'd best not let tall, dark and silent over there hear you flirting in such a wanton manner! If I wasn't so scared that Trapeze-boy would set his lions on me, I'd tumble you in a second. As it is, I wish you'd stop leading me on, sexpot." I winked at him and hopped up onto Scythe's foot, grinning at the beetroot colour he'd gone. I could hear him spluttering all the way to the door of the cockpit.

When I made my way back down after stashing my bag, Wuffers had rejoined the party. Quatre was still red and avoiding Tro's eye, so I figured I'd best have a talk with the lad. Wu was engaged in conversation – probably of a technical nature – with Heero, and Tro was stood on the fringes, listening in and occasionally offering his opinion.

"I was only teasing, Q-ball," I smiled softly as I approached him. He glanced up at me through those luscious golden bangs of his, and smiled back.

"I know, Duo. But this thing between Trowa and I is still kinda new, so I… well, I suppose I get a bit embarrassed about it sometimes." I was knocked a bit for six. Embarrassed? I was sure he wanted to spend the rest of his life with the guy. Nah, he couldn't mean that…could he?

My surprise must have showed on my face, seeing as he coloured up nicely once again and started to protest. "No! No, Duo, not like that! I just meant that…well, I feel so lucky, you know? That he actually likes me back? It's just overwhelming sometimes. I really…I don't know. Something about him is just so…"

"Perfect?" I supplied. A look of happiness spread across his face, which turned towards lion boy.

"Yeah," he breathed. "Yeah, perfect."

Wow. I teased them a lot, and god knows this relationship had been ages in coming, but I'd never realised…Well, I'd never realised they were in love. Lucky sausages. I said as much, fighting the urge to go 'aw'. What? I've got a sappy streak a mile wide, but don't tell Heero. He'd rip the piss out of me for weeks, until a mission or Princess Pink distracted him. Still, this small concession was worth it, just to see the look of bliss cross small, blonde and cute's face. Okay, so I've got a soft spot for Kitty-Quat too. So shoot me.

"Have you ever been in love, Duo?" he asked suddenly, cutting rather rudely into my internal, private conversation with myself.

"Oh sure," I replied flippantly. "Or at least I thought I was, but it turned out to be indigestion."

"Ha, ha," he said, with a grin. "Must have been excellent indigestion."

"Oh, it was. It really was." Our little confab was interrupted by the dulcet tones of one Heero Yuy, deadline's bitch, who informed me it was time to get my fine ass into 'Scythe and get out of his garage. Well, not in so many words, and missing out the 'fine ass' bit. Mostly, he just said "Time to go." Still, can't blame a guy for embellishing dull conversation, no?

Q gave me a quick hug, and I threw a mock salute in the direction of Hee-bunny and Tro-chan, before once more scrambling into my Gundam. I made sure no one could see up my skirt, though.

_That_ was something for another day.


	5. Welcome, My Dears, To The Gates Of Hell

**A/N: Wow. Comparatively long chapter today, huh?  
I realised that I forgot to add an Author's Note to the previous chapter, so both this and that one are dedicated to shogi, who is my new beta! Thanks muchly.  
I've also forgotten the disclaimer (eejit) so here it is:**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing, am in no way affiliated to it or any of the companies involved, and most likely will never own or profess to own GW. I don't have enough money. Sigh.**

Maxwell and I set off, angling our Gundams into the sky

Maxwell and I set off, angling our Gundams into the sky. The safehouse was far enough away from the nearest city to allow us to do this simultaneously, and we spiralled up towards the cover of the clouds.

I could hear him humming to himself over the intercom; the sound occasionally punctuated by the drumming of his fingers on Deathscythe's control panel and a vocal imitation of cymbals crashing. I wondered how long it would take him to break the silence.

It didn't take long.

"Hey, Wu? You get that pack off Kitten, too?" he asked, a hint of trepidation in his voice. It took me a moment to figure out to whom he was referring.

"Yes, Winner has supplied me with the necessary information." My reply was clipped and to the point, in an attempt to put Maxwell off. I enjoyed flying, just Nataku and I, with the silence broken only by the soft hum of her engines.

"You looked at it yet?" Maxwell's voice came once more, after a momentary pause.

I sighed.

"I extracted the coordinates, but Winner has already informed us of the contents."

Hadn't he? The thought sprang unbidden into my mind. I had planned on examining the documents provided whilst on the two-hour flight to the Le Fay Preparatory School for Young Ladies, as I already knew the rough contents and had only to peruse them in greater detail. However, something in Maxwell's voice made me reach under my seat to retrieve the information pack we had been gifted.

"You'd better look harder, Wu-bear," came Maxwell's continually cheerful voice over the intercom, accompanied by a gusty sigh. "We've got histories and everything!"

Maxwell was correct. One sheet of paper detailed my 'character,' including a brief synopsis of my assumed identity's past, qualifications, and name, which was to be Zhang Liuren. The name meant 'Benevolent Willow,' and was, I must admit, much better than it could have been. Still, I could imagine the mangling it would get at the hands of the Braided Lunatic, as well as the brainless girls we would be surrounded by very soon.

I skimmed the rest of the information quickly, discovering that I was playing a general's daughter, sent to the school because of a chequered past with my previous school's authorities. I had excellent grades, so the Le Fay prep had 'accepted' me, but the teachers would all know about my 'rebellious streak.' This gave me both an advantage and a disadvantage. If I was caught somewhere I shouldn't be, it would likely be assumed I was simply testing my boundaries. However, the teachers may be especially watchful, which could hinder the mission. I sighed.

"Who're you then, Waffles?" The irrepressibly cheery voice blasted through the small speakers into the cockpit. I groaned. "I'm an OZ kid, run-ins with the law, practically genius status." I could hear the grin in his voice.

"General's daughter. Rebel, dislikes teacher authority. My name is Liuren."

"Not bad, Wu, not bad at all! Like the name, what's it mean?"

I gritted my teeth.

"Benevolent Willow," I ground out. I could hear him hiding a chuckle.

"Nice. Not too _you_, though, is it?"

"No, Maxwell. It is not." He laughed. "What is your name then?" I challenged.

"Ah," he hesitated. "Well, it's…Chastity." It was my turn to hide a laugh. I didn't bother.

"Chastity?" I crowed. "Oh Maxwell, that suits you even less that mine does!"

"Ah, shut up," he grumbled, half-heartedly. I knew he could see the humour in it too.

"I'm gonna ask Heero if he can change it. Reckon this is why Q-ball neglected to give us these until the last minute?"

"Probably," I agreed, as Nataku beeped at me. "Maxwell, we are approaching the major city nearest the school. We must split up now to avoid detection. I will see you at the school."

"Right-o, Captain!" he replied cheerfully. I could almost picture him throwing one of his salutes to me, sitting in Deathscythe's piloting chair. I rolled my eyes, disconnecting the intercom and turning on Nataku's scramblers. They were nowhere near as powerful as Deathscythe's, but they had been added especially for this mission, as any OZ troops or Mobile Dolls in the area would pick us up on radar in an instant without them. As we had discovered before, when Maxwell attempted to break into a small training facility in the arctic, the bases monitored all activity in the skies, just in case of attack. They were secret, after all.

I allowed Nataku to do the work, flying us in a roundabout way to the small, cliff-side clearing where Nataku would be stored. I disliked leaving her here, so far away from myself, but it was necessary to have her in the area and impossible to keep her any nearer to the school. At least here, surrounded by sheer cliffs, forest and water, she would be unlikely to be discovered. I didn't know where Maxwell's Gundam would reside, a precaution that all of us pilots had agreed to, when we had started working together. The less we knew about the other's roles and missions, the less we could reveal if compromised.

We landed on the clear space of the beach, and I manoeuvred her into a small gap in the tree line, laying her flat where the undergrowth was densest. I retrieved the camouflage net from her storage space and covered her with it, after removing all of my gear. I switched on the portable scrambler and, shouldering my bags, started heading towards the goat-track that was the only visible (and possible whilst in a skirt) way up the cliff side. It was hard work, and I was glad for the cooling cover of the gathering dark. I reached the cliff top eventually; taking it slowly so as not to get my uniform dirty; and made my way into the town in search of a taxi to take me up to the school.

The town centre was still fairly full, considering how dark it was, and groups of teenagers had congregated on the street corners, laughing and messing around. I passed one such group of males without a second thought, until I found one of them standing in front of me.

"Hey sweetheart," he drawled, leaning up against the wall. I felt the sudden urge to tug at my skirt again, but I forced it down. "What's a pretty young thing like you looking for on the streets at this time of night?" I didn't miss the innuendo hidden in his words. Well, it was time to see how well I could play this part. It didn't, however, mean I was happy with it.

"Well, I'm just starting at the Le Fay prep, and I was looking for a ride up there." I smiled as nicely as I could and looked up at him from beneath my eyelashes, as I'd seen Relena do countless times. I had raised the pitch of my voice to a more feminine level, but it sounded low and husky for a woman. He seemed impressed, in spite of this, shifting away from the wall and surveying me with even more interest than he had previously. I felt a flush rise to my cheeks as he allowed his eyes to linger in _certain_ places, and fought down the urge to break his nose.

"Well, with a gorgeous girl like you? I could give you a ride." He winked at me. Letch.

"I'm sure you could," I replied, as flirtatiously as I could manage. "But my mother made me promise never to get into cars with strange men." Especially ones I already wanted to shoot, I added mentally. It felt ridiculous, talking so vacuously, but I knew that my usual approach of unfriendliness would simply make this man more eager to take me, in whatever way he could. I felt repulsed.

"At least allow me to accompany you to the taxi ranks, my dear," he offered courteously, offering me a sweeping, dramatic bow that reminded me forcibly of Maxwell. Except Maxwell didn't want to shag me.

"Thank you." I had a gun within easy reach and I could kill him with my hands, so I was fairly sure that this particular concession would be safe. Plus, if I refused, I had the feeling he would insist. Forcibly. And his friends were all nearby.

We set off, and I could feel his eyes on me. "So, sweetheart. What's your name?" he asked after a minute or two of silence.

"Liuren."

"I'm Grey. I live here, so when you get some free time from the witch school, come see me, yeah?" He grinned at me, the streetlights flashing off his white teeth.

"Witch school?" I queried, avoiding the rest of his speech.

"Yeah. The headmistress is a total slave driver. The rest of the girls complain about her so much, it's become known around here as the Witch's school."

We reached the taxi ranks and he tapped on the window of the nearest one, catching the driver's attention. He popped the lid of the boot and I placed my bags inside, taking extra care with the ones containing the explosives. Grey handed me into the back of the car, shutting the door with another wink and a lascivious smile.

"See you around, sweetheart," he said, as he turned and walked away. I rolled my eyes and directed the driver up the hill, towards the 'witch school.' The driver caught my eye in the mirror and smiled, not as Grey had done, revealing his ulterior motive, but a friendly smile, one that told me he'd noticed the expression of irritation and exasperation on my face. I returned the smile, if a little hesitantly. It seemed that being a female, even for this short amount of time, had had an adverse effect on me. Well, at least Maxwell would be pleased that I seemed to be a little freer with my emotions now. He was always complaining that I had the emotional range of an angry pigeon; which I thought was a little unfair. I'm sure pigeons have a complex and many-layered emotional spectrum.

The gravel drivewas long and sweeping, and as we droveI attempted to make out what we were passing. I knew that the drivewas surrounded by parkland and forest but the only visible thing was the school at the top of the drive. Due to the darkness I could only make out a large, gothic building lit with numerous lamps, which obscured more than they showed.

The taxi deposited me directly outside the large, wrought iron gates that presided over the courtyard, helping me with my bags before taking his fee and driving off. The gates, I had been told, were shut and locked after curfew, to prevent any wayward young ladies from meeting up with the rougher children from the town.

I doubted it had any affect. Hormonal teenagers were notoriously difficult to cage, and not just ones trained specifically for escaping and evading capture.

The courtyard was open, well lit and pleasant, with a fountain at the centre and a number of benches dotted around it, interspersed with planted trees and flowering bushes. In the mild, early September evening, a number of these bushes gaveoff a heady scent, which made the air feel heavy and relaxing. The building itself was large and imposing, with spiralling, decorative towers adorning the roof in a good imitation of pre-colony gothic architecture. Most of the old buildings on Earth were gone now, destroyed in the wars that riddled Earth's history, or succumbing to the ravages of time. Still, plenty of information on archaic architecture was available, and the rich and powerful spent a lot of money on recreating these beautiful buildings.

The front door to the school was opened – a heavy, oaken, dramatic sort of door – and a tall, stick-thin woman beckoned me inside, interrupting my surveillance of the building. Still, the real surveillance would begin in the morning, during the daylight, as Duo and I found our bearings in the place.

"Silly girl! You must come in out of the cold!" the tall woman exclaimed as she all but dragged me into the building. "And you're one of the last to arrive, too," she added in a well-bred, disapproving voice. "Name?"

"Zhang Liuren," I replied, almost stumbling over the unfamiliar name. "Ma'am," I added, as an afterthought. I felt ridiculous. It was only my training that allowed me to resist the temptation of razing this entire place to the ground with Nataku.

"That is not how ladies arrange their names, Miss Zhang." She looked down her nose at me. I narrowed my eyes. "Chinese you may be, but you were sent to a British preparatory school, so you will be treated like a British lady! Now, what is your name?" Oh, how I wanted to punch her.

"Liuren Zhang, ma'am." I forced my voice into its politest tone, and she nodded.

"You may refer to your teachers by their name, or Miss or ma'am, if you do not know it. Now, please follow me. I will direct you to an older student who will take you to your room. Your roommate has not yet arrived, so please wait in your room for her and the older student who will give you your orientation tour."

The woman walked as briskly as she spoke, finding a suitable student almost as soon as she had finished her little speech. I was handed over with little ceremony, the woman stating only my room number before she swept off.

"Hey. My name's Emily. What's yours?" Emily was small and compact, with mousy hair. She seemed pleasant enough, and laughed at my expression as she escorted me out of the hall. "Yeah, Madame Descartes has that affect on people. You'll get used to her, don't worry. I'm not going to tell you that it's all an act, because it isn't, but get on her good side and it won't be too bad! Where were we going? Oh yes, fifty-two. I used to be in there! When I was a first year though, I've been stuck here since I was eleven! How old are you? You look like you're in my year. What did you do that deserved this sort of punishment?"

She cut herself off with a laugh, apologising for being a motor mouth and allowing me to catch up with the stream of questions directed at me. I almost bit my tongue off, trying to avoid telling her she should meet my friend Duo. After all, she would, eventually.

"Liuren. That may be a problem. Sixteen. I am in Fifth year. Teachers dislike me. It is fine." My reply caused her to shut up for a moment, recalling her words and fitting them to the answers I gave her.

"Fair enough," she shrugged, with a grin. "Right. This is the room, someone'll come find you in a bit and give you the tour. Unpack your bags while you're waiting, a lot of the girls arrived today and it's taking a lot of organising. See you later!" She breezed away, leaving me facing a plain, stained wood door with a tiny brass plaque on the front, bearing the number fifty-two. Appropriate. Probably Heero's doing, of course.

The room behind the door was similarly plain and devoid of decoration; although here and there the cream walls showed signs of having sported pictures and posters. The twin beds were made up with pale lilac sheets, and the duvet cover was a soft blue, sporting the school's crest in the upper right hand corner. A single suitcase was set by each bed, answering the question of what we would do if required to wear non-uniform female clothes. It seemed that the Doctors had sent ahead a suitcase containing all of the usual boarding school items, including clothes, toiletries and leisure items, like a lacrosse stick. The suitcase had obviously been searched through, as the clothes were rumpled and the case was not shut as snugly as it should have been. The usual students wouldn't have noticed this intrusion, but I was expecting it.

A good job the contraband items were on my person, then. Still, the room could be bugged. So I put my clothes away in the small chest of drawers beside my bed and in the shared wardrobe that clung to one wall beside the desk, placing my bags under the bed before extracting a small scanning device from the pocket of the largest rucksack. I was fairly sure the rooms would not contain cameras, since that was a lawsuit waiting to happen, but audio recorders were far more discrete, and, if found, most of the girls here would be unaware of what they were.

The scanner beeped softly as I held it over the desk. It seemed that my suspicions had been correct, and my hand soon found a little plastic object glued to the underside of the desk. I removed it immediately, dropping it into my bottle of water to ensure that it was totally neutralised, and took great delight in watching it short out, the heat sending bubbles upwards in the already lukewarm water. I scanned the room again, ensuring that it was clean, and replaced the scanner, making sure that the bags were out of sight under the bed. We needed a place to hide the small – and not so small – incendiary devices that we had in case of emergency and, of course, somewhere to keep our guns.

I had been forbidden – yes, _forbidden – _to bring my sword, and I must say that the word 'injustice' cropped up once or twice in the heated argument I had had about this, but once the Doctors had explained their logic I had been forced to agree. The bags weren't big enough to hide a sword and it was impossible to secret it about my person whilst wearing my uniform. And yes, I tried. So the sword stayed at the safehouse and under Trowa's protection, in case something compromised the safety of the house and the other three had to relocate whist Duo and I were away. I trusted Trowa to look after my sword and he'd given me a set of flat knives to take with me, which were _much_ easier to hide. I'd added them to knives of my own, but these, being flat, left no outward signs of their presence, even in the tight skirt and shirt.

I had just begun my inspection of the room, searching for a convenient cavity wall or other innocuous hiding place, when I heard the voices of people coming towards me down the corridor. I listened hard, readying myself for a knock on the door that would signal the arrival of my orientation buddy. Buddy? I have been spending far too much time with Maxwell.

"…here we are. Someone will come for you in a little while." A female voice drifted through the door, and I had the impression the speaker was stood right outside.

"Right you are! Thanks!" The second voice was slightly lower than the first, filled with energy and a bubbliness that was far too familiar.

Maxwell. I bit back a sigh as I realised that my peace was about to be shattered, and would stay shattered until we got out of here.

The door swung open, admitting a tall, lithe figure, with sheets of wavy chestnut hair falling around its shoulders. My breath caught in my throat as he closed the door, rounding on me with a beaming smile.

"Hi, I'm Helen and I'll be your roommate for the foreseeable future," he began, raising an eyebrow in a silent message. I held up the water bottle mutely, watching as he sighed, relaxing his shoulders and collapsing onto the nearest bed, which happened to be mine. Typical Maxwell. When he next spoke, he used his normal voice.

"Jeez, what a trip! Bloody Doctors; I reckon they coulda found suit sites for us a bit nearer, don't cha think? Oh man, my throat is so sore. Some guys cornered me when I reached the town, and I had one helluva job shaking them off without pulling a gun on 'em." He stretched luxuriantly and I snorted, remembering Grey and his tricks, a little earlier.

"Tell me about it." I rolled my eyes.

"You too, eh? I can see why!" His eyes raked my body for a moment, before turning his attention to the suitcase on the other side of the room, allowing me to return to my task and, thankfully, hide my burning cheeks. I wasn't sure whether I wanted to hit him or thank him, so I settled for being silently disgruntled.

Bloody Maxwell.


	6. Let's All Play With Knives

**A/N: Thanks and such to my lovely beta shogi, who did this for me as fast as always. **

**You may have noticed the rating change. It was only M for safety, because I have no clue about ratings and tend to make everything with a swearword in M... But I have been informed by a friend that it need only be T at the moment. May be subject to change later, we'll see how raunchy we get...**

**Life has not been kind to me lately, and there have been multiple trips to hospitals and the doctor, alongside freakin' exams. Wunderbar.  
****As it is, it took me about three weeks before I got round to checking my email, so I apologise to anyone waiting for this chapter! The next one may take a while to write, it depends a bit on my illness, and how mean it decides to be. **

**I keep meaning to reply to reviews, but I tend to forget! Sorry! I'll do better in the future, I promise. Enjoy!**

* * *

Oh man, am I glad Wuffers didn't pick up on that little slip! I couldn't help but say it though; he'd knocked me for six _again_ when I'd walked through the door. There was no doubt about it, he made a gorgeous girl. A damn gorgeous girl.

'Scythe was safely tucked in for the night and I wanted nothing better than to snuggle up and go to sleep, but alas, that was not to happen! Most of the girls had arrived yesterday, so a lot of the other newbies had been given group tours and the rest had been scooped up earlier in the day. Me and 'Fei-chan, being the awkward little freedom fighters we were, had been the last of the drips and dregs to arrive, so we got special treatment. Oh, the joy!

Those bloody town kids were irritating, though. As soon as I'd taken one step in that place, guys started to appear from the woodwork, simply for the purpose of drooling on my shiny shoes. Then the über-creep arrived - Grey, I think his name was.

I was pretty much convinced he was gonna try and get me into bed, one way or another, so I humoured him until I could find a cab. I felt sorry for Relena and her public school cronies for about a second... until I remembered how annoying she is. Plus, being a snob herself probably helped. One haughty, you-are-beneath-my-contempt look, and she'd have any potential suitors running with their tails between their legs.

The school was pretty cool from what I'd seen, all oak and portraits. I was hoping the rest of the girls weren't as stuffy and prickly as the one who'd shown me to my room because I may have to kill someone if they were; and I was stuck here for an unforeseeable amount of time with them. And Wufflet, of course, but he's not exactly Mr Talkative-and-Pleasant, is he?

The knock came just as I was putting the last of my clothes into the wardrobe I was sharing with Wu. He looked at me with trepidation before moving to the door, which opened to reveal a small, redheaded young woman who introduced herself as Kate. She was dressed in the school uniform (as were we) which, to be honest, had struck me as weird from the start. Why bother wearing the uniform before lessons actually start? Well, I could ask her.

"My name is Liuren. This is Helen." The voice from Wufei made me freeze for a moment. It was so _weird_, hearing his voice up in pitch, sounding feminine, when he was usually bellowing bloody murder at me or ranting about injustice. Trying to put this voice with that picture almost made me start laughing right there and then, but Wufei's glare made me smile instead, walking over to Kate and 'Fei at the door.

"You here for orientation?" I asked, using my own female voice. Wufei looked at me, with something like surprise written in his eyes. I guess he'd been preoccupied with the bug when I'd talked before.

"Yeah. You ready?" she asked with a smile. I decided I liked her.

She took us to the classroom wing, which was on the opposite side of the building to the dorms. I got a bit excited when I saw the chemistry lab, but 'Fei's hand on my arm made me remember I was a young lady of breeding, who had been sent here as a last resort.

"Hey Kate," I asked, as we made our way downstairs so she could show us the dining hall, "why have we gotta be in uniform before lessons even start?"

"The headmistress thinks it makes the place look tidy. Officially, she says it's 'to prevent a distinction between those young ladies already benefiting from this establishment and those who are about to begin.'" She pulled a face. "It's not like it actually makes a difference. The current inmates show around the newbies anyway, and everyone knows everyone else, so it's nonsense. Still, they're the rules!" She grinned at me and carried on walking, pointing out the portraits that lined the walls and giving each painted person an abridged – and not particularly flattering – history.

"That's Lady Margaret Spencer, who married a rich guy and ran off with her gardener, this one's Duke Descartes, some sort of relative of our dear teacher, and about as nice as her. This one's Baroness Patterson, who got given a good rodgering in the library by the _then_ Classics teacher and this is her daughter, who may or may not have been the result of the library rendezvous…"

Yeah, I had a feeling I was gonna get along with this girl.

As we made our way down into the entrance hall a voice started shouting Kate's name, quickly followed by a mid-height brunette. I saw Wufei smile out of the corner of my eye, his gaze fixed on the oncoming one-person-whirlwind. It seemed Wu had already decided to make the best of our stay in this female infested hellhole. Heh, that sounded like something he'd say; complete with bitterness.

"Kate! There you are! Oh, hi, Liuren! You getting oriented? I'll help! I wanna talk to you anyway, Kate. Oh, this is the girl I was talking about earlier, the one with the gorgeous eyes." She gestured to Wufei with an expansive arm movement that could have taken eyes out. Oh, how I agreed with that statement. "Remember? Who's this? I suppose you're Lee's roommate? Cool! What are we waiting for?" She set off, Kate in tow. The redhead looked at us helplessly, and we followed. I allowed one ear to listen to the whirlwind's commentary, and turned most of my attention to Wu, who, apart from a faint blush lingering in his cheeks, seemed unfazed.

"That's Emily," he said amusedly, pre-empting my question. "She showed me to our room. I think you'll get along quite well."

"Aw, shut up. She's…energetic, isn't she?"

"She's your female counterpart, Maxwell." I stuck out my tongue. I wasn't that much of a chatterbox! Was I?

"Well, she beat me in finding a short version of your name, anyway. And call me Helen," I reminded him, in a low voice. I didn't blame him, I kept wanting to call him Wu, or Wuffers, or 'Fei, or one of the numerous other monikers I'd come up with over the time I'd known him.

"A slip. I'll remember." He frowned.

"Hey, sorry about that! I get a bit carried away sometimes!" Emily was back, with Kate rolling her eyes behind her friend's back. Emily stuck out her hand. "I'm Emily. Kate says you're Helen? Nice to meet you."

"Hi. Yeah, likewise. So, what's the deal with lessons and stuff then? They start tomorrow, right?" I asked, whilst having my hand enthusiastically shaken. You know, 'Fei was right. She did kinda remind me of me. Except I _knew_ I wasn't quite as loud as her. Right?

"Oh! Yeah, I've got to take you to pick up your timetables," Kate exclaimed, before Emily could start talking again. "The dining room is this door here, and then the loos." She pointed out the doors as she talked, leading us past them towards another small corridor. "The headmistress' office is up there, and that's about it," she told us, pointing up the corridor as we passed it. We went through the next doorway, which took us to a rather swish open area with a desk at one side. A stern looking woman sat at it, her grey hair piled into a bun on the back of her head. She looked up as we approached, her face breaking into a friendly smile that made her look pretty nice.

"Could we have the timetables for these two please, Miss Haversham?" asked Kate, indicating us. Emily, I noticed, was stood just behind us, trying to be silent. I glanced at her and she made a face, making me smirk.

"Of course, dear. Name?" She pointed at me.

"Helen Tiernan." The finger changed direction, indicating Wuffers.

"Zha…Liuren Zhang, ma'am." I didn't miss the stumble over his name order, and, apparently, nor did Miss Haversham.

"Met Miss Descartes, have you?" she asked, sympathetically. He nodded. "Ah. Well, don't worry too much. The rest of the teachers are a little more…liberal. But ma'am makes us feel old! Use 'miss' instead, if you must use anything." She busied herself with a sheaf of papers on her desk, eventually locating the two marked 'Zhang' and 'Tiernan.' She handed them to Kate, who passed them on to us. I was aware of her chatting a little to Havers, but my attention was on my timetable. It seemed we had free periods and 'organised recreation,' as well as time in the evenings. Excellent!

Kate herded us out of the doorway, leading us back to our room. "So," said Emily, stealing my timetable. "What you got? Yeah, not bad, not bad! You're in a lot of lessons with Kate and me." She handed my timetable back, filching Wufei's as a replacement. "You too!" she squealed, although the sound was not as grating as it was when the Pink Princess did it. Although that might just be bias, but who cares. Kate caught my eye with a grin, biting her lip as she watched her friend badger Wufei, who looked a bit overwhelmed. We reached the room, and Kate looked at my timetable over my shoulder.

"I've got history first too, so I'll come and collect you in the morning. Breakfast is served from seven until half past eight, so if I come get you at 8 we can eat and then I'll show you around a bit more. Lessons start at nine. Okay? I'll see you tomorrow!" She walked over to Emily, seizing her arm and dragging her away from Wu, who was staring at her with a henpecked look on his face. Priceless.

Inside our room, I collapsed on the bed again. "Man," I groaned, stretching out on the soft duvet. "This is gonna be harder than I thought. Especially if we have to keep up with Emily!" Wufei snorted. He was retrieving the laptop to send an email telling the doctors we'd arrived safely. "She's got her eye on you, I reckon," I commented, watching him flip up the lid on the black computer. He looked at me.

"I'm not interested. Besides, I think its Kate she likes." This statement, from the famous woman-hater and rigid Chinese-thinker Chang made me sit bolt upright on the bed.

"What?" He rolled his eyes at me.

"I think Emily likes Kate. She kept looking at her, playing with her hair, things like that." He shrugged, turning back to his task.

"Yeah, but how come _you _noticed, and how come you're okay with this? I always kinda got the impression you didn't really…agree with homosexuality." I fidgeted with the hem of my skirt. He looked at me again, one eyebrow raised, gorgeous eyes staring straight at me.

"_I_ noticed because _I_ was looking." He turned back to his computer. No one evades a Maxwell question easily, so I asked again. I was genuinely interested in his response, considering how…close to home it was. I wasn't the straightest lawnmower in the fridge, and, I must say, I'd been dreading a slip while I was here with 'Fei. I actually felt a bit guilty, since the other guys knew, but I suppose I was too afraid of what he'd say if I told him. He seemed okay with Circus boy and Blondie's new thing, but Tro wasn't exactly the most public of people, so they tended not to flaunt it.

"And you're okay with it?" I repeated. He didn't look at me.

"I have been reconsidering my opinions on homosexuality."

"So it's okay?"

"Yes, Maxwell! I have no problems with other people's life choices!"

"Good."

There was a silence. Ah. This is the sort of slip I was dreading.

"Maxwell?" he asked, his voice level. "What do you mean?"

"Er…nothing! It's just nice to know!" A Maxwell question may be impossible to avoid, but a Chang question had a circle of armed ninjas surround you.

"Maxwell…" he began, turning to face me.

"I'm going to get ready for bed! See you in a minute!" I grabbed the bag with my toothbrush and toothpaste in it, and escaped as hurriedly as I could. As I shut the door, I heard him laugh. Bastard.

I wandered up the corridor, trying to remember the way to the bathroom that we'd seen earlier, with Kate. I was simply grateful that the lights hadn't been turned out yet, since it must be nearing curfew.

"Hey, what are you doing walking around out here?" The speaker was a diminutive girl with short blonde hair. She stared at me imperiously, hands on her hips. She reminded me of someone, but I couldn't quite figure out whom.

"You've got ten minutes to curfew," she prompted, watching me expectantly.

"I'm looking for the bathroom," I replied, just remembering to switch to girl-mode. Her gaze flicked to the small bag in my hand and she smiled, her expression softening.

"Roommate a bathroom hog?"

"You could say that." It was true, actually. Wufei had once been in the bathroom for about six hours, although, admittedly, that only happened once. And he'd passed out in the shower. Quatre found him the next morning, and seeing a naked Chinese man asleep in the tub wasn't among the best ways to start a morning. Heh, he hadn't lived that one down for months! I only let it go when he found me in a similar state…we five tend to run on autopilot during and after missions, until we're sure we're safe. So Wuffers collapsed in the shower, and I collapsed with my head in the fridge. I've gotta hand it to the guy though, the morning after he found me Kitty was worrying that the fridge was bust, since it had apparently started to defrost itself, what with my body stopping the door from shutting and all, and Wu never said a thing.

Smirked a bit, though. And I kept finding fridge magnets stuck to 'Scythe.

The blonde pointed me in the direction of the toilets, which were thankfully empty. I wanted to sleep, goddamnit! When I opened the door to our room, he was laying on his bed in his uniform, reading a book.

"Ah, Maxwell." He sat up as I walked in, swinging his lithe, muscled legs off the bed, and walking over to the wardrobe. I followed him, standing behind him as he crouched, pulling our empty suitcases out of the bottom of the wooden closet. "I've found a place to keep our…things," he said, pressing down on one side of the thin wooden boarding that was the wardrobe floor. The wood popped free, and he pulled it aside, displaying an enclosed space filled with paper, weaponry, Tro-bunny and Hee-bear's fun presents, and our laptops.

"I'm impressed, Wuffers." I wasn't talking about the wardrobe. The hiding place was good and all, but I'd just noticed the handle of a small knife sticking up out of the waistband of his skirt. No, I hadn't been checking his ass out! Well, maybe a little. What? It's not every day you get the opportunity to look at Chang's ass in anything but those floofy white trousers of his – which didn't give a particular view anyway, seeing as how they had to be loose enough to fight in – not to mention the fact that this time, he was wearing a skirt short enough to feature in any red-blooded guy's dreams, alongside Catholic schoolgirls and wooden rulers.

He replaced the board, his hand automatically going to the knife in his waistband as he stood. He caught my eye with a resigned look. He knew I'd noticed.

Ah well, I s'pose that he needed some bit of shiny metal to dote over, seeing as how he didn't have his sword. Or his Gundam, for that matter. I wasn't disrespecting the knives; God knew I'd had my own, back in the day when it was life or death every moment, and when everyone had been too poor to get their hands on a gun. I still preferred blades over guns, though. Even my 'Scythe had a whacking great blade! Quiet, discreet, personal. Huh. Not that killing was a fabulously fun pastime, or anything. And guns had become a way of life now, when it was a case of 'cause as much damage as possible in the easiest way,' and I didn't have the choice of seeing their faces before I blew them up…

That sort of thinking wasn't doing me any favours though, was it? I had a mission to take care of, some girls to befriend…and a 'Fei to fantasize about. He was taking off his shirt. Aw, temptation, I hate you.

"Hey, 'Fei-man," I asked, as I turned my back to him and began unbuttoning my own shirt. I was pretty pleased with the way my voice stayed level when it wanted to break in the middle, like some pre-pubescent kid's when confronted by a naked broad. "Where'd you get those pretty blades?"

"Barton," was his only reply, and I rolled my eyes. This guy seriously needed to learn how to hold a proper conversation!

"Tro-babe gave you knives? Why, what'd you do for him?" I joked, replacing the shirt with some sort of floaty thing that was apparently a nightdress. Q had said that the lacy bits at the front would disguise the lack of breasts if we were walked in on or something, but I still reckon it was all a cruel joke, some sort of revenge for all the pranks I'd pulled on them. Heh. At least it wasn't too uncomfortable.

"I gave him my sword. For safekeeping." I bit back a laugh. Yeah, that sounded like something Wu'd do. I suppose there was no room in his Gundam for it; there was barely room for _me_ in mine it was so crammed with stuff! Yeah, and Unibang-boy would treat it with the same kind of reverence that Mr Snarky over there did.

"Ah. Fair exchange, yeah?" I pulled my second sock off and chucked it into the laundry basket that stood by the door. We'd been told that we did our own laundry during 'laundry time' once a week, which was perfect for us. We couldn't risk anyone else seeing our 'special' underwear, and it _would_ need to be washed at some point.

There was movement behind me, and Wu-bean's undies whizzed past my head, to land in the basket, followed by his shirt. Yeah, good idea, that. After all the walking I'd had to do today, I'd rather not have to go to lessons in the same shirt. I turned around just in time to see 'Fei kneel in front of the wardrobe, his dark hair falling in sheets around his face. I couldn't help but watch, my breath caught in my throat, waiting for the moment when he'd raise an impatient hand to flick the silken strands away, breaking the spell he had on me.

It came all too soon, his hair being tucked behind an ear before he lifted out the panel. He rooted around as I moved closer, before pulling out a little piece of electronic genius that I recognised as a movement sensor. He replaced the panel and stood, holding something out to me. A knife, like the one I was sure was hidden about him somewhere.

Hells, it was a funny picture. Chang Wufei, dressed in as frothy a confection as I was, holding out a shiny little killing device, his expression as irritable as ever. I laughed. I don't think he appreciated the humour of the situation.

How do I know this? Well, the flash of a knife past my head was a good indication, as was the solid thunk it made as it embedded itself into the doorframe.

"Heh, nothing personal Wu! They got me too!" I exclaimed, backing away slightly with my hands raised. He scowled, and for a moment I thought he was gonna go for the other knife I was sure he had on him somewhere, but then he turned and stalked over to the window opposite the door. I watched him for a moment, to make sure he wasn't gonna go Justice on me, then turned and pulled the knife out of the doorframe.

He musta got The Enigma to give him some lessons in freaky circus juju, 'cause that knife was damned well stuck. I was impressed. It took some wiggling to get out, but I managed it. I was just considering whether or not to risk Wu's wrath and give the knife back when he affirmed my freaky-juju theory.

"Keep it, Maxwell. Your knives are bulkier and easier to see." I almost dropped the damned knife in my foot, he surprised me so much.

"Oh, thanks 'Fei." He looked at me levelly for a moment, and I'm sure he was looking for some sarcasm hidden within the surprise. Apparently I passed, because he gestured to the window, pointing out the sensor he'd placed in the topmost corner.

"We may have to relocate this, but it will do for tonight. I'll reassess in the morning." I nodded mutely as he returned to the wardrobe, pulling out the laptop and doing some calibrating or something. Hey, just 'cause I can set the things up doesn't mean I know all the jargon! That's Hee-bunny's forte; I prefer nice, old-fashioned explosions.

I didn't realise I was staring until 'Fei finished his clacking with a sigh, and began replacing the electronics. I threw myself down on the bed just as he turned, and he shook his head at me, raising an eyebrow.

"That's my bed, Maxwell."

"Hey, since when? We haven't even tossed a coin or anything!" I protested, watching with trepidation as he moved closer. "OW! Okay! Okay, the bed's yours, get off!" The bastard had pulled me up by my hair! My _hair_, goddamnit! I rubbed my scalp and scowled at him as I moved to the other bed, trying to avoid noticing that his nightdress had ridden up when he'd sat down, and an expanse of golden thigh was visible. I wasn't doing so well.

"Good night, Maxwell," the smug bastard said, as he turned the lights out and climbed under the covers.

"Night, Wu," I replied, wondering whether I should throw my pillow at him to get rid of the smug little smile I knew he had on his face. I decided against it.

I'd have enough trouble trying to get that thigh out of my mind as it was. Having an angry Wufei attack me in the dark wouldn't exactly help matters now, would it?

Damn him. Now I've got the image of him straddling me in his underwear with a pillow.

I hate this mission.

* * *

**A/N: Look! Lines! Wow, I'm getting technical. Anyroad, leave me a review if you liked it! It makes me all warm inside. And as a reward you get more 'Fei thigh action! And Duo too...**


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